The gut-wrenching sound of bones being shattered echoed through the air as Desir unleashed a final devastating blow with his arm, obliterating the last dark murloc. The humanoid fish was torn asunder, its corpse gorged, its internals splattered across the rocky terrain.
Wounds of various sizes strewn all over the muscular wyvern’s body, with the worst being the poisonous spear piercing his neck. Any other wyvern would already give in to its mortal wounds, but not Desir. If one were to inspect the damage, it wasn’t as bad as it looks since Desir inherited a fraction of Mordred’s battle experience. Allowing an enemy's attack to graze his skin or flesh in exchange for a fatal counterattack is the Magus of Death’s combat style. With that said, the spear has missed the bones, tendons, or blood vessels.
‘Tis but a mere flesh wound.
“How’s the taste of your first battle?” Mordred asked as the mutation on his hand started to subsided. In the heat of battle, he was forced to activate the bloodline abilities that he had plundered, taking on Wyverian form to cope with the intensity. If he hadn't, he would’ve been one of the corpses lying around.
“...” Kaishin’s hands trembled uncontrollably. Her contributions in the battle were the few blastscales that she hurled to give some breathing space for the two main combatants. However, the weight of murdering humanoids is too heavy for an inexperienced village like her to bear.
Her inability to contribute effectively forced Mordred and Desir to adjust their fighting style, prioritizing her protection above all else. As a result, Desir bore the brunt of the damage, despite being an infantile wyvern. The murloc, being as strong or even slightly stronger than early-stage apprentices, posed a serious threat to Desir’s life, especially considering their numerical and positional advantage.
If Desir hadn’t been concealing his true abilities, he would have been able to utilize the sound-path methods he inherited from Mordred, allowing him to endure less damage than he did in the battle. But alas, the battle and the damage were already done.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I never knew real battles were so dangerous…” She fell on her knees, tears streaming down her face.
Mordred shook his head as he tended to Desir’s wound. The Spectral Soul slave wouldn’t be affected by this level of damage since the murlocs lacked the method to kill spectral beings, but he couldn’t afford to let the brute wyvern mortal shell it inhabited to perish. He hadn't even paid the interest of capturing it yet, the loss would be so severe that it might affect his future.
He knew which wounds urgently needed treatment after tapping Desir’s body, but he couldn’t use advanced healing methods without justification. Therefore, he can only perform first aid, while leaving the real recuperation to the real hunters.
When Mordred was done with his treatment, he saw Kaishin sulking. He knew she was feeling down because of her lack of contribution. However, he didn’t take it to heart as there’s nothing that she can do without a beast slave.
“Should we find some beast for you?” Mordred inquired as he tried to console her, his hand caressing her dark red hair.
“I don’t need your pity… Just leave me alone, for now.” Kaishin tried to deny his hand, and Mordred did not persist.
“I’m not pitying you for your lack of combat ability.” Mordred left Kaishin's side to start gathering up the corpses so that it can be brought back into the campsite. “I’m pitying you because of your lack of open mindedness. The reason why multiple hunters made a party is because every single one of them can only do so much. They needed each other’s specialty to function better. What you’re seeing is what I can do, not what you can do instead.”
Kaishin clenched her fist, “I don’t want to hear that from you!”
“You were the one who wanted to get out of your comfort zone and see a real battle firsthand,” he retorted, irked with her mood swings and weak mentality. “And now you’re sulking for reasons that I don’t even care about. In the first place, I didn’t agree with taking you out of the campsite so that you could fight alongside me. The reason I brought you out here is so that we can gather resources more effectively. After all, you’re the one with the education to differentiate what resources are which, not me.”
Seemingly understanding his reasoning, Kaishin slowly recovered herself. The woman’s immature mind is so simple that it was too easy for him to lead her by the nose, but he was genuinely bothered by her weak mindset. “T- then I will help you separate which murloc body parts are more precious while leaving the rest.”
With her helping Mordred collect the spoils of war, he now has the justification to bring in precious resources that were laying around, not just murloc body parts.
….
As Mordred made his way back to the campsite, he couldn’t escape the torrent of gazes directed his way. Some were filled with concern for the wounded wyvern, while others showed indifference. However, the majority of eyes held a distinct tinge of envy. It was no surprise, considering the wyvern’s imposing size and strength, capable of shouldering burdens that surpassed human capabilities. For apprentices who lacked access to dimensional storage methods, Desir’s presence became a focal point of their envy.
Upon arriving at the mission exchange center, the bustling crowd from the early morning has completely disappeared. The nearing sundown has prompted most apprentices to return and exchange their rewards, understanding the risk of venturing outside the campsite’s safety net. With the nocturnal nature of the local beasts, it was deemed unwise to wander around at night.
As Mordred almost reached the open-air mission boards, he was confronted by a muscular teen with short black hair, his arms crossed and a condescending expression adorning his face. The teen’s sneering voice broke the silence. “Well, well, look who we have here,” he taunted. “I’ve heard you’re nothing more than a whore’s son. It’s quite amusing to see you strutting around, pretending to be capable of hunting murlocs. You’re just a poser who relies on others to do the real work.”
Perched atop an elevated platform, the teen’s gaze fixated greedily on the pile of murloc body parts and other valuable adorning Desir’s back. He was well aware of the missions handed down by the official Hunters, including those involving murloc hunting. However, he knew that directly hunting the murlocs wasn't always necessary. The proof of their subjugation, murloc hearts, is the key to the mission rewards. This knowledge fueled the teen’s desire, evident in his greedy gaze.
Lost in his own thoughts, Mordred barely registered the taunting words directed at him. The recent hunt had allowed him to collect fresh souls, kickstarting his soul cultivation. In this state, his consciousness is elsewhere, detached from the present moment. Though his eyes were wide open, his mind operated on a semi-autonomous level, akin to an ‘autopilot’ mode.
“You dare ignore me?” The muscular teen’s sudden movement to block Mordred caused an unintended collision. Mordred was pushed back, jolted back to the present by the impact of hitting another person. “What the fuck?” He rubbed his butt, feeling as if he had run into a solid wall instead of a human being. “What the fuck do you want?” ‘Satoru’ was not one to apologize for the mistake of others. Mordred had designed his personality to be overbearing and condescending towards those he disliked.
“There’s a special tax if you want to cross here,” the muscular teen sneered, his eyes greedily scanning the large bloody bag atop Desir, brimming with the stench of murloc hearts. Mordred had been hunting in multiple areas, and the teen quickly calculates that the bag likely contained over a hundred murloc hearts, each the size of a baby’s fist. With that many, the teen could finally purchase the minor inheritance he had always desired from the official Hunters.
Mordred glanced at the onlookers who were expecting some kind of entertainment over his conflict over the muscular teen. The mission center was guarded by a couple of mutant kobolds, but they turned a blind eye to Mordred and the teen’s altercation. As long as no fight breaks out, the kobolds wouldn’t intervene. Yet, in some cases, they would simply break up the fight and consider the matter settled. Judging from the muscular teen’s unhinged behavior, it seemed he had extorted multiple groups before him, exploiting every loophole in the so-called ‘rules’ set by the official Hunters.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
‘The official Hunters imitated the economy of cultivators to teach apprentices cultivation culture across the world. But, aren’t they taking it too far?’ Mordred mentally shook his head.
In the real world, cultivation also includes plundering or forcefully taking resources from others, the muscular teen’s behavior was all too common. After all, might makes right. As long as one possessed adequate strength, then they could somewhat bend societal norms to their advantage.
Mordred has failed to recognize the muscular teen, as he had never picked up his soul signature before. He assumed that the teen must be one of the ace apprentices brought by the official Hunter groups, who joined the original four Hunter teams. Nevertheless, he needed to handle the situation carefully, as it could significantly impact his future. “Ah, I never heard about needing to pay a tax,” Mordred said, stretching out his hand. “In that case, pay up,” he added, briefly scanning the teen’s person with a calculating gaze.
The muscular teen’s apparel consists of lightweight leather armor, which revealed his well-defined, muscular limbs. The impact of their collision provided Mordred with feedback about the teen’s highly optimized skeletomuscular system for strength-path cultivation. Judging by the way his muscle developed, it was evident that his preferred combat style involved wielding heavy weapons. At this very moment, however, he didn’t have any weapon on his person.
“Are you retarded?” The muscular teen delivered a forceful slap to Mordred’s hand, a strike that would have shattered the bones of any mortal. The malicious intent behind the slap was palpable for all to see. “You should be paying me!”
With deft reflex, Mordred narrowly avoided the hand slap, evading a potentially devastating blow to his dominant arm. However, ‘Satoru’ wasn’t one to simply brush off such an attack. He was about to leap back and retaliate by shooting the teen’s leg, but before he could execute his counterattack, the muscular teen lunged at him, anticipating Mordred’s moves with uncanny accuracy. His clawing hand followed Mordred’s retreating dominant arm, a clear indication that he was well-versed in Mordred’s likely reactions in this situation.
Using a grip that could shatter the arms of a mortal, the muscular teen effectively prevented Mordred from reaching for his gun. “If you don’t want things to get messy, I suggest you pay up.”
Mordred locked eyes with him. “You seem to have been poking around. Who told you about me?”
“Does it really matter?” The muscular teen sneered. “You’ve been hostile towards everyone lately, so nobody felt the need to keep their mouth shut. I’m just doing everyone a favor by putting you in your place.”
“No, you misunderstand.” Mordred shook his head, disappointed at the muscular teen’s quality. According to his early estimation, the muscular teen’s body talent should be grade-A, but it was unfortunate that he is gullible. “What I’m trying to say is that you are a fucking buffoon for letting them use you.”
In that very moment, the muscular teen’s palm which has been restricting Mordred’s dominant arm exploded. Mordred’s bloodline ability allows him to generate blastcales. He freshly generated one with the explosive force sufficiently powerful to put a hole in the muscular teen’s arm. The original Blastscale Wyrflake wyverns, once categorized as an Armor Wyvern species, was known for its ability to retaliate against attacks with powerful shaped explosions.
“Argh!” The muscular teen writhed in pain, clutching his wounded arm. The damage inflicted by the blastscale were severe, shattering the bones within his palm.
Mordred shook his arm, feeling the strain of using zero-distance blastscales. Despite shaping the blast according to his desire, the feedback it produced was still too much for his mortal shell to bear. The original Blastscale Wyrflake wyvern possessed an extremely powerful body; they were capable of enduring the burden of their own explosive scales, but Mordred wasn’t. In fact, he had to secretly employ a minor sound-path method to scatter the vibration of the feedback throughout his entire body, yet it still left his bones fractured.
With his dominant arm injured, Mordred reached fro the gun on his thigh and transferred it to his left hand. Although Mordred himself was ambidextrous, ‘Satoru’ was not. He aimed the gun at the muscular teen’s leg, his hand trembling slightly.
“Y- you!” The muscular teen seethed with anger. He wasn’t a fool and had been investigating to gather information on the most unhinged individual within the campsite. When arriving in a new location, the best way to gain fame and establish prestige was to defeat the strongest.
Although Mordred, or in this case, Satoru, isn’t the ‘strongest’, he was one of the most influential apprentices. He has been garnering attention and malice from everyone, even those who hailed from the same place harbored disdain for him, making him a lightning rod for animosity.
Unfortunately for the muscular teen, the intel he received was flawed and outdated. It had been manipulated or simply based on misinformation, as no one was aware that Mordred had acquired the bloodline abilities of Blastscale Wryflake. Regardless, the muscular teen had suffered a significant setback in this encounter. “If you shoot me, the kobolds will be forced to take action!” he hissed, resorting to a desperate threat in a final attempt to save himself.
Mordred sneered.
From that malicious smile, the muscular teen was fully aware that Mordred could blame his shaky, non-dominant arm’s aim for the misfire, and flagging his murder as an accident.
“No, wait I’ll-!” Bang! The muscular teen’s pleading was abruptly interrupted by the sound of gunshot, leaving no time for the apprentices around to react.
Fearing that the bullet was aimed at his head, the teen closed his eyes in anticipation of death. However, after several seconds of suspense, the expected bullet did not arrive. Opening his eyes, he discovered a hand that had shielded him from Mordred’s bullet. Though not particularly large, the hand possessed an uncanny hairiness, as if it was protected by a soft fur-like black armor.
Mordred scrutinized the figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, realizing that the person had employed a movement-type martial art to reach the scene. It was a female wolf-beastman with a pair of large wolf ears and a furry tail. Unlike Analis, who exhibited a more human-like appearance, this wolf-beastman excluded a distinct beastly essence.
According to Morded’s perception, as the bullet flew towards the muscular teen, the woman’s palm effortlessly caught it. The searing hot molten plasma resembled a pudding-like gelatinous mass on her palm.
“You’re that Satoru I’ve been hearing about,” the wolf-beastman muttered, her tone laced with intrigue. Clenching her hand, the molten plasma on her hand scattered from the gaps between her fingers. “You got balls, injuring and shooting my ace apprentice like that. Don’t you realize how difficult it is to find talented youths these days?”
Mordred holstered his revolver quickly and offered a half-bow of introduction. “Pleased to meet you, my name is Satoru-”
However, before he could finish his sentence, the woman firmly gripped his collar, hoisting him off the ground. “Stop with your nonsense. You were fully aware that shooting him with your left hand has a high probability of missing. In fact, we both know that you weren’t even trying to shoot his leg, but his stomach.”
The strength of her grip constricted Morded’s airway, causing him to cough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Unfettered, he denied her accusation, even though it was completely correct.
“You were attempting to extort Yūji, but when things didn’t go according to your plan, you resorted to using explosives and threats…” The wolf-beastman muttered, her tone filled with a mix of faux disappointment and anger.
Mordred, while not familiar with the mentioned Yūji, quickly connected the dots. “I see,” diverting his gaze from the woman’s amber eyes, he shifted his attention to the muscular teen. “You were so pathetic that you need the help from an Official Hunter to unfuck yourself-”
With a surge of strength, the wolf-beastman’s hand swung through the air like a force of nature, connecting solidly with Mordred’s cheeks. The impact echoed through the air, as if the very air trembled in response to the sheer force behind the strike. Mordred felt her palm against his skin, a searing pain that traveled through every nerve in his face. As the brutal force of the slap struck him, his body jolted, his head snapping to the side with an audible crack. The sheer intensity of the blow sent shockwaves reverberating through his jaw, dislodging several teeth from their original position.
The brute wyvern and the caprine-beastman who was following behind Mordred’s footsteps had already growled in anger, but the instinct of wyvern and a beastman was far stronger than humans. The wyvern, even if it wasn’t possessed by Mordred’s Spectral Soul slave, would already be aware of the wolf-beastman’s strength. A single flick to the wyvern’s head would break its skull. Thus, they were incapable of helping Mordred, despite unwilling to see him suffer like this.
“Ptui!” Spitting out blood and fragments of broken teeth, Mordred maintained an unwavering gaze despite being discombobulated by the slap. “What are you going to do, kill me? Miss Katyusha wouldn’t let you scot-free.”
Amusement flickered in the wolf-beastman’s eyebrows. “Hahah, if you insist.” With a swift motion, her right hand blurred, surging towards Morded’s face at a speed that transcended the limits of rank 0. Unable to comprehend the lightning-fast attack, Mordred’s worlds’ instantaneously plunged into darkness as consciousness slipped away.